


Alter Self

by grandfatherclock



Series: Edubation [5]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Community: widojest love, Cunnilingus, Dom Jester Lavorre, Dom/sub, F/M, Pegging, Polymorph Spell, Sub Caleb Widogast, caleb and jester become each other and have sexytimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 16:03:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20932934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandfatherclock/pseuds/grandfatherclock
Summary: Hegrinsas she steps into his space, pulling him into a messy kiss and capturing his lower lip in hers. Shebitesas she pushes him back, feet stumbling as she lets go of his lip and gently pushes him into the couch. His smile widens, rubbing the nape of his neck, and the way his blue hair frames his face soperfectly, his face so freckled and bright and his eyes soshining—no,that can’t beright. Jester leans close, pushing him up against the couch so he’s sprawling, capturing his gasp in another kiss. His mouth is cold like hers, soft like hers, and she searches that mouth with her tongue, runs her tongue over his fanged teeth as he makes a soft little groan, soroughin that lightvoice, this not-Jester, not-Caleb, Caleb-pretending-to-be-Jester-except-sexyiskillingher. Sheknowswhat she looks like, she knows even in the best of times her whimpers don’t sound sosultry, and she can’t getenough of it.“Jester,” he murmurs, as she comes close, nose brushing over his cheek.





	Alter Self

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smokeandjollyranchers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokeandjollyranchers/gifts).

> The end of _Edubation_! Thanks to everyone who followed along. I had a great time writing it, and I liked exploring Caleb's trauma through the lens of recovery and healthy communication. This fic is gifted to [@smokeandjollyranchers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokeandjollyranchers/pseuds/smokeandjollyranchers) because she's _amazing_ and this is in many ways a spiritual successor to her fic, [You Ask For My God And I'll Give You Her Name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17963642). It's an excellent fic, and I can't recommend it enough.
> 
> Thank you to do [@dorcasdeadowes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorcasdeadowes/pseuds/dorcasdeadowes) for beta'ing!
> 
> It's been amazing writing this for the widojest collab week! Hope you all enjoyed the ride <3

_See_, Jester didn’t think that she’d be all that into this. It isn’t like she’s ever found her reflection the most alluring_, _even though she knows she’s beautiful. The cut of her dress always feels too girlish, or it’s the style of her hair framing her blue face that annoys her. Sometimes she finds her passing reflection when she presses her face against the glass panes of stores all goofy and childish as her eyes widen, watching the pretty pastries or scarves or _whatever_ it is that captured her eager and short attention.

She’s _pretty_. Just. She’s just pretty. She knows this. She knows this in how people watch her, looking amused but then flitting their gazes over to _Fjord_, or _Beau_, or _Caleb_. Someone serious, someone who looks in charge, someone who isn’t her. She _knows_ this, but—

Caleb smiles at her, and it isn’t the way _she_ would necessarily smile. The _Alter Self_ he cast on himself to look like her seems so _accurate_, her face flushes as she gazes at this image of herself in Caleb’s white silk shirt and brown trousers, kicking off his boots before looking back to her. He raises an eyebrow, _his _movements translating onto the angles and creases of _her_ face, and it’s so strange, and so weird, though she does not deny how she watches those breasts pressed up against his shirt. “We don’t _have_ to,” he sighs, his lilting accent rippling over her high voice. He pulls off his shirt, just wearing that amulet he always _tends_ to wear around his neck. Jester watches herself shirtless, watches the amulet resting in the middle of his tits as Caleb throws the shirt to the floor, that smile still on his face. “Just…” His face turns gentle. “I always thought there was a _reason_ you liked to _Invoke Duplicity_, Lavorre.”

“_Oh_, well.” Jester bites her lower lip, and then comes forward, eyes tracing over his—_her_, or neither’s, or _maybe _both’s, or just someone in between’s—face as she reaches close, a hand trailing on the crook of his neck. It’s freckled there like it’s freckled _everywhere_, and Jester will admit… sometimes on the slow days she _does_ channel the Traveler’s divinity to make that illusion appear in front of her, acting out how she walks or moves and smiles just to _see_, just to know what everyone else watches. She doesn’t think she could necessarily get _off_ on herself, but the way Caleb is looking at her with dark eyes and running a hand through his hair, parting it prettily as he bites the inside of his cheek, tilting his face to give a better view of that freckled _neck_—

He _grins_ as she steps into his space, pulling him into a messy kiss and capturing his lower lip in hers. She _bites_ as she comes further close, feet stumbling as she lets go of his lip and gently pushes him into the couch. His smile widens, rubbing the nape of his neck, and the way his blue hair frames his face so _perfectly_, his face so freckled and bright and his eyes so _shining_—_no, _that can’t be _right_. Jester leans close, pushing him up against the couch so he’s sprawling, capturing his gasp in another kiss. His mouth is cold like hers, soft like hers, and she searches that mouth with her tongue, runs her tongue over his fanged teeth as he makes a soft little groan, so _rough _in that light voice, this not-Jester, not-Caleb, Caleb-pretending-to-be-Jester-except-_sexy_ is _killing_ her. She _knows_ what she looks like, she knows even in the best of times her whimpers don’t sound so _sultry_, and she can’t get _enough of it._ “Jester,” he murmurs, as she comes close, nose brushing over his cheek.

Jester kisses the corner of his mouth, making him exhale shakily. _Jester_. It’s a high, chirping intonation with a low tone and a dragging accent, and she captures it in her mouth as she reaches lower down, her hand beginning to knead a breast as she sits on his lap. Her dress bunches up on her toned thighs. He’s smaller than she’s used to him being, so her legs spill over onto his side, but it’s _fine_, she just uses that to brace herself better, the feeling of the cushions welcome. “Ja, Cayleb?” Her voice is coy as she begins to trail kisses along the underside of his jaw, watching that smooth blue skin slowly darken as she scrapes her teeth against the delicate flesh. _Gods_, she wants to _debauch _him, can’t help but _bite_ and grin against the coolness of him as he _moans_ at her touch. “Did you _need _something?” she simpers, lips and tongue trailing wetness along his soft skin.

"Ja," he manages, sounding so _breathless_ and his eyes _fluttering_ in that way _she_ tends to get, his hands raising to rest on Jester's shoulders—and _oh_, he's copying the way that she grips him _too_. The _Alter Self _spell didn't just give him her body, but also her _strength_, and from that satisfied little smile as he raises his jaw, offering her easier access, more of him, more, more, _more_, she can tell he _knows_. _My clever little wizard_, she thinks, running her cool tongue down that freckled blue skin. Her eyes greedily drag over every freckle, a little astonished by the fact that it's _perfect_, he's captured her _perfectly_, not a _thing_ out of place—except for that dark gleam in those violet eyes, except for the curve of that half-smile as he bites his lower lip, allowing a whimper all high and perfectly _her_ past his lips. Perfect, he's _perfect_— "Colour, Jester?"

Jester stills for a moment, raising her head from where she was leaving marks on his neck to look at him warmly. She still remembers his face when he brought it up, his hand warm in hers, his rough blackened finger running in circles on the inside of her hand. They were laying in bed, and her hair was strewn over a pillow, half her face smushed into it as she gave him a little smile. His gaze was tender, his hair all over his face _too_, looking so young, looking so alive, looking so peaceful, and he flushed just a _leetel_ as he bit his lower lip, _something_ on the tip of his tongue, _something_ he was trying to figure out how to ask for. She waited patiently, and when she scrunched her nose at him in that way she _knew_ he found adorable—_you are adorable, Schatz_, he had murmured once, many times now, _and beautiful and kind and everything else_, compliments that would make her face darken and her eyes close—he finally exhaled, smiling softly at her. The curtains were fluttering lightly, all soft and pink, and sunlight was so _warm_, it was a while since they spent time in a place where the sun beat down so _warm_. It reminded her of home, of Nicodranas, of the ships returning to port. _I want to try something_, he admitted, his voice seeming a little small in the silence.

Jester furrowed her eyebrows, but smiled encouragingly. It felt _nice_, having her hair all over her face. It was a light blanket, soft and fluttering, and the cool breeze that wafted in from their tavern window was a balm against the heat. His pale eyes scanned her face, and he bit his cheek, taking that purposeful pause—_hesitating_, she thought, trying not to let dismay cloud the expression on her face, because that wasn't fair, and he was trying so hard, and it _mattered_ that he was trying so hard—before exhaling through his teeth. _I like to… _His voice trailed off, and he was _flushing_. She watched him raise a hand to run through the strands of his red hair, watched his shirt shift with his jerky movement. _I like magic when I… have sex_, he finally mumbled. _I… I like to use spells, and I… _He sighed, giving her an embarrassed smile as she grinned at him. _And I like to alter myself._

She tilted her head just slightly, excited by the idea that Caleb felt open enough to initiative conversations about sex—they're good at communicating now, better than they were _before_, but Caleb still didn't talk much about their sex unless it was _her_ initiating, _her _asking what he wanted, _her _making room for him, for what he needed, he's not good at _asking_ for it. She smiled gently. _What do you mean, Cayleb? _Her tail was flicking a little, snapping against the bed, and _yeah_, okay, so maybe she was a little _excited_—she _also _liked using magic in bed, using magic to _tease_, using what the Traveler gave her to create a little chaos, leave Caleb a little ruined. And Caleb had the _best_ ideas. _Like, give yourself an even bigger cock, something? _He blinked at that, and she widened her eyes in horror at the implication, making him smile. _Not that I think your cock is small, it's so big and nice and_—

_Thank you, Jester._ He pulled her close, a hand curled around her side, and she sighed, making a _delighted _little sound as he pressed his lips against hers, the kiss soft and sweet and chaste. He _bit _into her lower lip, making her close her eyes, and then leaned back, his nose grazing hers. His eyes were _brilliant_ reflecting the hazy light, and she smiled at him, knowing how _tender_ she must have looked right then. _I know my dick is large and nice._ He smiled a little as he used her words, and _oh_, she was reminded of that little seed of vanity in him, the way his eyes glittered as he watched her her flush darken and her eyebrows rise. _And this is how I like to alter myself. _He closed his eyes for a moment, one hand touching his spellbook in his holster and the other one making somatic gestures, and she watched pretty arcane runes materialize around him, fiery colours of red and orange and yellow as arcane words _slipped_ past his parted lips. He looked beautiful, and she _stared_ as he opened his _violet _eyes, and smiled with dark _blue_ lips, all these _freckles_ on his face that matched _hers_—

_Oh_, she said, as she began to understand. She was still for a moment, watching this visage of herself in Caleb's clothes, watching how the shirt was so _loose_ around his narrow waist, watching the swell of his—but _hers_, but _Jester's_—ass against those trousers. It reminded her of when she would put on Caleb's clothes after they fucked, grinning coyly as she claimed a particularly cozy shirt for her own closet, admiring the fit of it in the mirror. This was something _else_, though, something _other_, and she _blinked_ as he dematerialized whatever he cast, _blinked _as Caleb was _back_, offering her a sheepish smile. _Wow_, she mumbled, flushing a little as she leaned close to him, head against his shoulder. _That's… that's really cool, Cayleb_. He watched her expression intently and she gave him a smile. _New spell, huh?_

… _New spell_, he confirmed, leaning down to kiss her on the top of her forehead. _It's… spectacular, I_ feel _different when I cast it, kind of like _Polymorph_. Even how I breathe is different, and I… like feeling like you, Jester. _Her face darkened at that, and he nodded, the arm around her back pressing her closer still, pressing her body flush against his. _I won't do it if you don't want me to. Just… wanted to raise it as an option._ He sighed, and Jester pressed a kiss against his shoulder through his shirt, making him breathe out a laugh. _It's… something that I'm into_, he admitted, after a moment. His voice was _so_ light, _so _careful, _so_ intent not to pressure her, and her heart felt _so _full.

_Something you want for you_, she said after a moment, looking up to meet his gaze. She _knew _Caleb's eyes sometimes dragged in his reflection, _knew _sometimes when he got _really _deep into their sex he would, for small half-seconds, catch his appearance in the dark of her irises, _knew _he sometimes performed for her, looking a certain way and smiling in that certain way and _moving _in that certain way that made it clear he found what he was doing arousing _too_, wanted himself _too_. He flushed, but didn't deny it, and she leaned up, kissing him again and smiling against his lips. _Thank you for telling me. _Her voice was earnest. _I_ want _you to tell me these things, and I'll think about it, okay? _She lifted her hand to rest it against his cheek, ran her thumb over his cheekbone, watched his even breath. _And I love all your magic._ She leaned close, her forehead against his.

_Okay_, he said, sounding a little _relieved_ at this conversation, at her gentle smile. She wondered how his whirring, _thinking_, always _thinking,_ mind thought it would go, if it would go _badly_, wondered if he was used to conversations about what he wanted going badly. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her face, and wondered if he found the coolness of her—her breath, her touch, her _lips_, her _cunt_—as comforting as she found all his warmth. She knew objectively that he did, he told her so in those desperate, reverent half-breathes as she grinded into him, in those soft moments afterwards, in the calmness of the in-between, in the marketplace, in the forest, whenever he wanted her presence, whenever he craved her touch, but _still_. A lady can wonder. A lady can doubt.

He kissed her then, and she allowed it to all melt away, melt into nothing but _him _and his _warmth _and his rough blackened fingers reaching down to cup her _ass_—

—and _now_, here they _are_, Jester straddling his lap as she _bites_ into his neck with her fangs and makes him tremble. She feels the muscles of her thighs shifting, feels the drag of the fabric between them, and absolutely wants them _off_, absolutely wants him naked and spread out, wants this visage of her. "_Green_," she promises, breathing in his scent. Not _ink_, not _incense_, not _sulphur_, not _spell components_—cinnamon, and that gentle waft of her mother's perfume Jester always puts on herself, that makes her feel _attractive_, makes her feel _pretty_, kind of like _he_ does, kind of like what Caleb's approximation of her does. It's… _so _flattering to think that he finds her moans _this_ alluring, as she raises a hand to knead his breast. She pinches his nipple and watches with fascination as it stiffens at her touch, watches Caleb's back arch at the pressure, bringing his breast even _more _into her grip. She squeezes it again, and brings her other hand up, starting to play with his tits in that way _he _likes to do with _her_, the way that makes her squirm and shift her thighs as she feels herself getting _wet_, and sure enough his _moans _are loud and obscene through those parted blue lips. He's biting into his lower lip with his fang, watching her with half-lidded eyes as she trails her lips over his sternum, and she _bites _there too, worrying the skin between her teeth as she grinds against him.

"Green _too_," he manages, and he groans as Jester begins to move him, carefully angling him as she continues to bite and kiss and _tease _sideways on the couch with his head is resting on one arm, looking so laid _out_ as she triumphantly sits over him. His eyes are so _dark_ as she leans down, his hands still digging into her shoulders as she kisses one of his stiff nipples, massaging the other the way she would touch _herself_ as she finally opens her lips and begins to suck on it. He arches into her wetness, his skin cold like hers is, and she wonders if she looks this radiant from this angle, her hair a mess and framing the blue of her face. He's _flushing_, his neck so _dark_, and she wonders if he feels the thrill she does as she _scrapes_ her teeth against his nipple and makes him _tremble_, makes him moan softly and say words like _yes _and _perfect _and _so good, Jester, you have no idea how good,_ interspersed with little _ah_s that have her grinning. He's shifting his thighs, probably so restless, probably so _wet_, and the thought of it is so _pleasing _that Jester can't even bring herself to care about her own anticipation, not when there's so much to _play _with. Jester bites his nipple again, looking at his expression and he _sighs_, so _prettily_.

"You look so _good_," she says, squeezing his tit as she leans forward, her covered chest pressed up against his breasts as she kisses him. His hands move on her shoulder, and she pushes her tongue deeper into his mouth, moving in patterned thrusts, practically _fucking_ her tongue into him, and he _moans_ around it, _moans_ as his thumbs hook around the straps to her yellow dress. She grins at him, and slowly starts to shift lower down, trailing kisses over his toned blue chest, scraping her teeth, making sure the pathway she took is _obvious_ when she looks back up, and leaves another kiss at his waistband, biting into the skin there. "So _perfect_," she breathes, her hair falling down around her face. She looks back up, eyes glittering mischievously, head cocked to murmur another _compliment_, and her eyes widen as he _pulls_ down the straps of her dress, down enough for her breasts to fall out, hanging as she hovers over him. "_Eager_," she giggles as he watches her hardening nipples with violet eyes, looking so _aroused_ and _wanting _that she's _wet _despite the strangeness of it all.

"_You_ are perfect," he murmurs, eyes dark she leaves a kiss against his cunt, through the black fabric of his trousers. "Tell me you see how _perfect_ you are." He parts his legs a little as she pulls down his trousers, her eyes glittering as she sees his cunt and jaw tensing as she feels the warmth of his compliment rolling over her like a wave crashing against the shoreline of the beaches in Nicodranas. She kisses his cunt, breathing over it and inhaling the heavy scent of his arousal, and he _whimpers_, thighs pulling as far apart as he's able, with the trousers bunching at his knees. Jester _pulls_ his pants completely down, over his toned freckled legs, cold and firm and _hot_, he's so _hot _like this, like _her_, and she_ does_ see it. He always makes her _see _it, see the way she might look to him all splayed out on the couch, naked and wanton and flushing as he leans down and eats her out. "See what you _do _to me?" he sighs, as she leans close, pulling his legs further apart.

"_Ja_," she whispers, giving him a soft smile before _biting _into his inner thigh, making him arch and moan as she teases the soft freckled skin there. Fuck the Traveler, she really does think he got _everything_ about her right, _every _freckle perfectly placed, _every_ little whining sound he makes like heaven to her ears. She continues to kiss him, mark him, loving how he squirms under her grip and pinning his ass to the couch. Jester _loves_ the sounds of frustration as she ignores his wetness, continuing to drag her tongue over his toned flesh. "Be _patient_, Cayleb." He trembles under her bracing hand on his thigh. "Be _good_." His eyes darken at that, on his forearms to watch her with his clever intent gaze, and she _winks_ at him, lips trailing over his other thigh. "You did _such _a good job, I'm just _admiring _you, you know?" He moans, feeling her breath on his cunt, and she nuzzles her nose against it, fingers parting him for her watching eyes.

"Jes—_ah_," he groans, the enunciation of her name in his accent filtered through _her_ voice, as she _runs_ her tongue through his folds, tasting his wetness. His back arches, and he _whines_ as she pulls away to bite into his thighs again, following the trail of freckles with her searching mouth. "_Please_," he sighs, forearms trembling as he watches her lightly rest her fingers over his cunt. He's good for her, not jerking up into her grip, he's always so _good_, and she whispers as much against his skin as she trails her lips up, closer to where he's so fucking _wet _for her. "Please, Jester." His voice is so _heavy_ around her name, and she loves it, would kiss his lips sore if she didn't think he might _die_ if she leaves where she's perched. He parts his legs further, exposing himself further to this room, further to _her_, and he bites his lower lip, his breasts that move with his breath all marked and _bruised_—

He _arches _as he feels her cool fingers start to thumb at his clit, eyes wide and a startled moan pushing past his lips. He keeps his hips down, though, down against the couch, and she rewards him by running her tongue through his folds once more, loving the way he _writhes_ with her movement. She continues to probe with her tongue shallowly, and Caleb _whimpers_, violet eyes full of _so_ much fondness as she pulls one toned leg up, all the way onto her shoulder. She feels him brace himself there, brace himself on this new angle that exposes his cunt further, and _good little toy_, she praises, as he groans. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, face _twisted _with pleasure as he tries not to jerk to her touch, but he opens them when she rests there with her cheek against his thigh, her fingers pinching his clit. His lips quirk up at her expression, and Jester smiles. "You should admire yourself more," he murmurs, his voice soft—almost like it's full of _wonder_ or something. "If I were _you_, I would make that illusion the Traveler makes for you, your duplicity, act out for me all the time."

"You_ wouldn't_," she says immediately, and he raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing in consideration of her _certainty_. Jester's smile widens, and she starts to run her thumb around his clit again, starts to tease a finger around his entrance. "You would only _watch_ yourself that way when you had the _nerve_." She turns her head and pressed a kiss to his raised thigh, looking at all the marks there. _Gods_, he looks so fucking _ready _to be _wrecked_, watching her with those _eyes_, and Jester worries at a mark already there on his soft blue skin, smirking as it darkens under her care. "I _like _when you have the _nerve_." He furrows his eyebrows, but _smiles_, and Jester _winks_, lowering herself down. "And you can _touch_, Cayleb." She fucking _misses_ his hand in her hair, fucking _misses_ his _touch_. "And you can _move_, too," she continues, tail twitching as she feels generous.

Jester _grins _as she runs her tongue through his folds again, hearing his tail smack against the surface of the couch as he _moans_, a hand reaching out to thread through her hair. His touch isn't _warm_, his fingers aren't _rough_, but she can still _feel _it's him with everything in her, _knows_ the way his thumb makes light circles against her scalp, _feels _that steadiness of his grip. She hooks her lips onto his clit, making him let out his broken little moan, her name trailing into _silence_ as he throws his head back, thighs trembling as she _sucks_. Jester occasionally runs her tongue over his clit, as one finger _slowly _pushes in, pushes into his wetness, and he _is_, he's so _wet_, _you're so wet for me_, she coos as she pulls him for just a moment, making his hips jerk up and her finger push in _deeper_. He whimpers at the feeling, so _reactive _to her ministrations—he's probably not used to taking fingers this way, but it's also something _else_, like this other form gives him a kind of _freedom_ to no longer be so _measured_, so _careful_. She wonders if he finds it close to the collar, wonders if he finds relief in escaping to _this_, to _her_. She returns to his clit, licking at it playfully before capturing it in her mouth again, and he _groans _with relief as he feels her.

His hips are rolling softly, gently thrusting up into her sole finger, and she _feels _him clenching around it, chasing that tightness, chasing fullness. Jester _curls_ her finger in that way _he _does, in the way that makes her eyes wide and her thighs shake, and sure enough, Caleb is _trembling_. His gaze is firm on hers, his fingers _tight_ in her hair but not _pushing_. She can _feel_ those nails lightly grazing her scalp, and looks back at him through her eyelashes, giving him a slow, deliberate wink as she begins to feel at his entrance with a second finger. He moans lightly, eyes fluttering, and Jester smiles with her lips around his clit, finally letting that second digit sink _in_, into the coolness of his interior walls, and she curls it _too_, dragging her fingers along him. “Jester,” he whispers, his eyes half-lidded, biting the inside of his cheek, his words so _heavy_.

Jester isn’t the most _experienced_ in eating people out, hasn’t done it so much, not as much as she’s sucked _cock_, Fjord’s and some barkeep’s in Rosohna, and of course _Cayleb’s_, but she knows her body, knows what it needs—and so she _bites_ his clit, making him _arch _and shake under her, his leg on her shoulder digging in. She _presses_ her fingers in, as deep as they’re able, and _grins _as she feels Caleb clenching on them, gasping and moaning and _begging_ as she twists them and _stretches_, pushing against those inner walls of his, telling him to _come_. He’s shifting, head thrown back and his marked neck all exposed, and Jester _knows_ what her body needs, which is why she replaces those fingers with her cool tongue, which is why she _rolls_ his clit between her fingers as she pushes her tongue _in_, deeper and deeper and _deeper_, dragging against his tightness and feeling him _clench_, chasing the _sensation _of her—

And _oh_, he’s _moaning_, hissing out her name as she thrusts in with the patterned movement of her tongue, fucking into him, spreading him apart as she runs her fingers in circles over his clit. She moves her tongue in a more languid pace as he clenches his thighs the way _she _does, the way _he _makes her ecstasy a kind of torment with how he _teases_, spending longer and longer indulging in him, inhaling his arousal. Gods, he’s so fucking _wet_ for her, _wet_ for _this_. _Alter Self_ makes him so fucking _wet_—his hair is a messy halo around him like _hers_ is, as he keeps pushing his chest up and then relaxing down, waves of pleasure that _she’s_ causing bringing him so _close_, bringing him to the _edge_. His fingers are _tight_ on the bed sheet, his groans and sighs so _obscene_, and the sounds of her in him so _loud _in the otherwise soft silence.

She’s not sure what finally does it, what finally makes his grip on her hair _tighten_ in that way she knows means he’s _coming_—maybe it's how she squeezes his clit too tight with her eager fingers, or maybe how she licks at his entrance before dragging in _deep_, or maybe how she spreads his legs all wide, or maybe how she calls him _her eager little slut_, something she raised her eyebrow at when Caleb said he wanted it, but it sounds so _hot_ as she gasps it between eating him out—but he _does_, he _does_ come. His eyes are all wide and his pupils are all blown and she continues to suck his clit through it all, through his spine tensing before he relaxes, through his light little groans. When he finally trails into a sound of discomfort, Jester pulls back, looking back to see him, and _woah_, he’s fucking—_debauched_, she _debauched _him so _thoroughly_.

He’s naked and ruined on the couch, and his shoulders slumped as she pulls herself up, laying against him as she feels him _blink_, slowly let go of the _Alter Self_. She watches the blue recede in a _snap_, sees that hair framing his face shorten and _change_, change into _red_, change into _him_, and by the time her body is flush against his, pressing kisses into his face, his eyes are blue and he’s _hot_ against her, still naked but largely unmarked, eyes still shining, still _adoring,_ as he watches her. “Oh,” he sighs, and she kisses him, seeking out the warmth of his mouth. He closes his eyes as he tastes himself on her, a hand reaching out to curl on her cheek. “You’re so _good_, blueberry.” She flushes happily at the nickname, and he kisses her again, this one long and languid and _heated_. “So good.” His voice is so soft, so _sure_, he looks at her with his eyes so _admiring_.

“_Thank youuu_,” she giggles, her face darkening under his gaze. She presses her cheek against his shoulder and grins up at him, fluttering her eyes at him all flirtily. “You know I never ate someone _out_ before?” She tilts her head and presses a kiss against his shoulder, smiling as she feels the heat of his flushed skin. She _missed_ his warmth, the blue and the freckled breasts and the fangs were _fun_ but she missed _him_, and she whispers as much against his skin. “Missed you, Cayleb.” She presses her feet against his, feeling his warm permeating through her and helping to ease the chill of kissing someone _else_ who is cold, someone _else_ who was blue like her. “Missed your _warmth_, mon ange.” _My angel_, she thinks.

“You were so _good_,” he repeats, smiling down at her. His hair is rumpled, the red perfect against the pale translucence of his skin, and he leans back against the arm of the couch, grinning and seeming so _satisfied. _He’s completely naked except for the necklace around his neck, and she leans up, _very _aware of her breasts still spilling out and pressed against his bare chest. Her tail flicks around happily, and Caleb’s own quirked up lips widen as he watches her enthusiasm. “Thank you, Schatz.” His voice is a murmur, and he pulls her up with his hand on her waist, pressing his forehead against hers. “Thank you for… indulging my quirk, Liebling, you were so _good_.” He sighs, thumb grazing her cheek. His eyes are _shining_, he looks so _happy_. “Did you… did you like it?”

“_So _much,” Jester promises, shifting up and pulling off her dress over her shoulders as an idea slowly begins to form in her head. “I mostly did what I liked when _you _do it to _meee_.” Her voice is distracted as she _remembers_ that dark, dragging look on his face when she said that this strange kind of performance sex, this _mirror _sex, was something she thought he might want for himself, and she _knows_ how much he sinks into that subspace when he’s comfortable with her. The idea in her head starts to solidify, and _oh_, it’s just a little _chaotic, _just a little _perfect—_

The cloth of the dress drags against her body, her hands raised up over head as the fabric covers her face. The sunflowers are all around her as she pulls the dress _off_, and when she meets Caleb’s gaze, as she bunches it in her hand, his eyes are so _dark _on her bare, flushed body sprawled over his. She looks down at him with considering eyes, watching his face and chest and legs and _cock_, all pretty and pink she stares at it, and his eyes _widen_ as grips her holy symbol, wrapped up in her clothes. His lips _part_ in anticipation, sitting up as she _transforms,_ casts _Polymorph _on herself, and he’s jerking her _down_, jerking her into a _kiss_ as the divine incantations finish ripping out from her throat, as the pink glow filters through the clothes, as divine runes glitter all around her. “_Oh_,” she giggles, her voice lower, like _his _voice, and _fuck_, this is so fucking _hot_, the way he’s looking at her is so fucking _hot._

Their kiss is fucking _searing_, and she _sighs_, opening her mouth to allow his tongue to press in, into _her_. With her other hand she absentmindedly grips the base of her cock, nearly _jumping _at the pleasure she feels with even that little tightness. Jester _feels_ his smile against her mouth, _feels _her cock _twitch _as he bites her lower lip, and shifts her jaw at the momentary pain, letting out a pleased little sound at a pleasure afterwards. Caleb reaches for the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, and Jester indulges in it for a moment _longer_ before she pulls back, her hands on his shoulder as she beams at him. His eyes drag on her visage of her chest, searching and _wanting_ and going down, down, _down_, all way down to her cock that she _squeezes_, wiggling her hips—like _his _hips, pale and slender like _his _hips—happily at how it all turned _out_. She doesn't have a perfect memory like he does, but she _is_ an artist, _does_ spend her time dragging her eyes over his skin, _does _think constantly about the beauty of him. His chest flushes lightly, matching his neck as he stares, and Jester thinks he must be pretty _pleased_, because he looks so fucking _wanting_ right now. "Nice and big," he says, lips quirked up as he echoes her comment from a week ago. _Gods_, he sounds so _eager_.

Jester has a hard time thinking right now, her thighs trembling a little as she hovers over him. _Fuck_, squeezing the base of her cock feels so _good_, and she whimpers a little as her own hand trails over her length, stroking it with an unpracticed but _enthusiastic _pace. She _winks _at Caleb when his eyes finally meet hers again, and he's flushing so _much_—Jester wonders as she feels his cock harden against her thigh how fucking _hot _he must find this, must find this image of himself masturbating, _edubating_, she thinks with a small giggle—in front of him. She's rolling her hips lightly to her own touch, and she watches her cock leak with delight, watches that precome. She runs her thumb to gather it, and raises it to Caleb, pressing it up against his lip as she watches with half-lidded eyes, and _ah_, stroking her cock feels so _good_—

Caleb takes her thumb into his mouth easily, running his tongue along the length of it. The wet warmth is entirely too much, like his pink lips stretched around the digit, sucking and grazing his teeth ever so slightly against her cold skin, and he _shivers_ lightly as she digs a hand into his other shoulder, slowly and _carefully _pushing up to sit on her knees. _Fuck_, he _whines_ as she pulls away, pulls back from his flushed cock wanting and pressing into her thigh—it's this low, _deliberately_ needing sound, deliberately alluring, deliberately _wanting_—and she _grins_ at him as she stands with her legs trembling just _slightly_. He shifts his jaw as he takes her thumb as deep as he's able, tilting his head to get that angle that allows her to most easily fuck his mouth, and moans through it, moans as he tastes himself—or _her_, or her-_as_-him, Jester as an adorable, _eager_ Caleb, though she maintains that Caleb is entirely more playful than he, or anyone else, gives him credit for.

Jester pulls away her thumb, making Caleb whine and close his eyes for _just_ a moment, before he opens them again and watches her cock right there between them. The height is a little disorienting for Jester, she's not used to seeing the world from _this_ particular angle, but she plants her feet firmly and grins down at him, stroking herself so quick that her toes curl in, starving off the easy orgasm. _Fuck_, she needs to make this shit _last_, this is one thing she _doesn't _like about this form, as nice as this dick feels under her tight grip. Jester wipes the moisture on Caleb's lower lip, and leans down, kissing him tenderly and feeling his gasping warmth against her lips. "_Green?_" she whispers, their faces _so_ close together that she can feel the warmth of his breath on her. It's bracing, and her fingers on his shoulder dig _in_, her other hand in his hair, tightening as she raises herself _up_, up until she's looking down at him with eyes hazy from pleasure.

"_Green_," he murmurs, tilting his head to brush his warm cheek against her cock, nuzzling it. _Fuck_ the Traveler, the tease of his warmth is a little tormenting—she's felt the wet sucking warmth of his mouth on her nipples, and her clit, and they've been _amazing_, but _oh_, to have it on her _cock_, the thought of it would make her tail wiggle excitedly behind her if she still _had_ a tail. He watches her face for permission, to allow him this, and when she breathes out a lust-filled, _Suck my cock, my little whore_—she _sees_ his cock twitch at that, _knows_ that this contained ritualized humiliation gets him _off_ in a way she can relate to, nothing quite like getting spanked and told you've been _bad_, though she prefers the _praise_—he reaches forward, reaches _close_. Jester stares as he raises his hands to brace them on her sides, one curling to grip her ass and _squeeze_, as the other's fingers wrap around the base of her cock. He opens his lips, and runs his tongue over the head lightly for _just _a moment, _just_ a half-breath, and then shallowly starts to suck.

Jester is _moaning_, and she's being _loud_, but _fuck_, this feels so fucking _good_. Caleb's light little sucks on her head are kind of maddening, not _nearly _enough, and she tightens her fingers on his head to let him know, but makes sure not to thrust in, to _control_ her desire to snap her hips, to make sure he's alright. They've _discussed_ this, he's supposed to tap her hips twice if something feels wrong, but right now, he's moaning _too, _the soft reverberations of the sounds in his throat making her thighs _tremble_. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, bracing herself on something that isn't his tongue running over her head, and _oh_, his head _bobs, _pulling back for _just_ a half-breath before taking her in _deeper_. She runs her fingers through his strands, praise stumbling past her parted lips, and he sighs around her, his own lips so _obscenely _outstretched. It's quite _something_, to see her cock—and she _knows_ it's accurate, she's certainly spent a lot of time _looking _at it—slowly disappear into his mouth, so _tight_ around her. She has to _clench_ to stop from coming as she bottoms out, as she sees his dark eyes watching her through his delicate eyelashes, as she watches some saliva drip past his lips while he _sucks_.

_Gods_, the pressure is something _else_. Jester stands as still as she's able, but her thighs are _shaking_ from how hard she's trying not to come. His head is bobbing, establishing a patterned movement as he takes her in _deep_, deep until she feels her cock against the back of his throat, deep until he's swallowed her to her base, deep until his hands are both pressing into her thighs, fingers _tight_ against her ass in that way that leaves _marks_, in that way that makes the smile on her face fucking _giddy_. Her fingers tighten in his hair, and she's careful not to push him forward, careful that she doesn't interrupt the way he thrusts his mouth on her. _Fuck_, it feels so _good_, though, and she watches those lips obscene against her, watches him moan and tilt his face to her touch as she wipes away the saliva, watches as she feels his hand _tighten_ as he cups her, pressing her as close forward as _possible_—

Jester _knows_ Caleb finds himself hot, _knows_ he's masturbated in the mirror in front of her, _for _her, when she asked him to, the two of them watching all those little intricacies of himself, of the way he is—the soft red hair, the delicate skin that made him seem entirely too vulnerable, the way he bit his lower lip as his fingers trailed light against his dick. The roll of his hips was beautiful to see, that flush creeping on his face as he watched himself with those dark eyes so fucking _endearing_, and Jester _likes_ that he's more open about what he's into, what he _needs_, open the way _she _is, open about gags and collars and leashes. They don't live in silence anymore, haven't lived in silence for a _while_, and she _loves _that open adoration on his face as he runs his tongue along her dick as he swallows, loves that sucking, insistent _warmth_, loves it all so _much_, loves it _too_ much. If he keeps sucking her cock like that, keeps whining as she groans and whispers praise, calling him her _pretty little cock slut, you were meant for this, born to warm my dick, right, Cayleb?_, keeps sighing as she rolls her hips _softly_, careful not to place any real pressure on him… 

Jester pulls him back with her hand on his hair, back despite his desperate little _moan_, back until he's looking to her, more wetness on his chin as he _blinks_. He leans forward to chastely kiss along her dick as she watches, all the way to her base as he squeezes her ass, running his tongue back up her length like he can't get enough of _her_, get enough of _this_—and he only stops when Jester says, "I _know _you're impatient but be _good, _okay?" Her voice is light, punctuated by her uneven breath, and she gives him a conspiratorial wink, letting go of his hair to take a step back. Caleb looking like it kinds of _kills_ him do this, but he lets go of her regardless, that soft little expression on his face so _sweet _that she finds herself flushing. "Turn _over,_ okay? Over the arm of the couch." His eyes _darken_ as he realizes what she's asking for, and she lets him be still for a moment, just _slightly_ squeezing his shoulder and giving him a heated kiss with teeth and _tongue _before pulling back, letting go. She doesn't turn to watch him arrange himself, even though she _desperately _wants to, and finds the jar in her bag on the desk, popping it open before finally looking back, finally _seeing _him—

He's sprawled perfectly over the arm of the couch like she told him to be, and Jester _grins_ as she comes close, _grins_ as he shifts his weight from one knee to the other at the sound of her footsteps. His ass is _perfect_, his skin pale and delicate like the rest of him, and Jester's eyes trail over his unmarked back, over that obscene dip of his spine as she gets up on the couch, carefully pressing her fingers up into the jut of his hips. He sighs at her touch, and Jester _smiles_, leaning forward and leaving a kiss up on his shoulder, turning it into a _bite_ that makes him _moan_. She doesn't have her fangs, but she still worries his skin between her teeth, pulling back to admire the dark mark against the pale of his skin. "Jester," he sighs, her name like a prayer on his lips, and she _giggles_, giggles in _his_ voice, an arm curling around his slender waist as she drapes herself over his back. "Green," he hisses, hisses before she can even _ask_, hisses as her other hand lightly trails over the back of his thigh and gently pulls his legs further apart, further exposing himself to her, to the room. He's arching slightly, his ass perfectly on display for her, perfectly wanton, perfectly _perfect_—

His moan as she smacks him lightly, playfully, just enough to push him up against the couch, is so fucking _hot _that her cock twitches. This _too _is something she didn't think Caleb would be into, but he _asked_ for it, and Jester couldn't deny that flush to his face as his thumb ran in circles over her hand. He arches more, pushing his ass further out as he clenches against the light, stinging pain, and Jester watches the small mark with delight, leaning back over him, her heated skin against _his_, continuing to trail kisses along his back. "You're been so _patient_," she says, smiling against his skin, and he sighs, her hand around him reaching to play with a nipple. "Be a little _more _patient, don't _tease_ me with your ass as I mark you up, okay?" He groans, this desperate little sound, and she squeezes his ass lightly where she hit him, rubbing where it hurts. He doesn't push back into her—_good boy_, she coos—and she _pinches_ his nipple, grinning at his choked groan as she lets go, and trails _lower_, her other hand firm on his hip…

He's _whimpering_ as she wraps a hand around the base of his cock, _whimpering _as she starts to stroke him, her name stumbling past his lips as her fingers trail over his _length. _Caleb_ groans _as she runs her tongue along his spine, marking up his pretty, _pretty _back as he shifts under her, doing everything in his power not to grind _back_, grind back into her dick, _hard_ by his thigh. He moans her name as she jerks his leaking cock, as she thumbs the crease where his ass meets his thigh, and though her hair is shorter like this, in this _form_, it still drags against his back, making him shiver as she kisses him. Jester runs her nose along his skin _too_, allows him to simply feel her _breath_, and he shivers at that as well, his sighs getting more choked and his begging getting more halting as her strokes even out. He doesn't jerk to her touch, and his wrecked, heavy voice makes the toll _clear._ He _whines_ as he feels her hand leave the grounding grip on his hip, but he sighs in _relief_ when he hears her fingers in the oil as she nudges his thighs further apart even now. His eager, but _demure_, voice whispering, _Green_, as she asks for a colour is so desperate, his legs _trembling_ as he holds his position for her, being obedient, being _good_—

"_Good _boy," she murmurs in that low voice, kissing his back as she positions a finger just outside his entrance. "I'm using my fingers now, _okay_?" He lets out this choked _please_, and she bites into his back, a grounding sensation, as she pushes in her finger slowly, _carefully_. She watches his back shift under her as his arms brace his body, trembling and eager and _open _for her. He's tight around her, and she's not the most experienced at this _either_, trying to focus on what she likes when Caleb fucks _her_ with his fingers, with his cock. He _groans _as she curls her finger, pushing in deep until it's to the knuckle, and then allows Caleb to brace and shift, jerking his cock with her other hand to distract him, to make him _writhe_, as she pushes that second slicked finger in, her name on his tongue trailing off into a deep, _desperate _moan. "Good?" she asks, stretching her fingers in him, biting into his pretty translucent skin and grinning at the trail of hickeys and bruises she's left on him. He's fucking _shaking_ under her, it's one of the prettiest things she's ever seen.

"_So_ good," he gasps, head lowered as he clenches down against her, sighing as she stretches him. Jester _hums_ as she curls her fingers and runs her thumb over his length. "Jester, _please_, I just"—there is a pause in his sentence as he _moans_, as she brushes her cock against his ass, all flush and hard against where she smacked him, _gods_, she wonders how long she can _tease _him like this—"_please_, fuck me." His voice is so _heavy_, so _desperate_, so _uneven_, and he moans as she squeezes the head of his cock. "_Please_, Jester, I want your—I need your dick, please." He sounds _good_ begging, _good_ whining and wanting the way he is, and she _knows_ he felt her cock twitch, because he shifts his weight to his other knee, his breathing hitching in anticipation. "_Please_, Madame Lavorre." Jester's shifts her jaw at _that_, because _oh_, that's _hot_, and he looks back over his shoulder for a moment, looks at her other hand reaching out to brace on his hip in preparation. He gives her a reassuring little smile, eyes dark and glittering.

Jester _grins_ back at him, slowly pulling out her fingers and reaching for the jar of oil to her side again. She coats it generously on her fingers as he watches, stroking her cock and sighing at the sensation of the oil against it. It feels _good_, the feeling of her hand against her length a comfort, and she winks at Caleb through it, _winks_ as she lets a moan past her _own_ lips, as she raises her chin and shows off her unmarked neck, untouched and undominated. Caleb smirks a little at _that_, smirks at the way she wiggles her eyebrows teasingly at him, but he pushes his head back and _leans_ forward against the arm of the couch that keeps his back arched and his ass on perfect display for her. Jester sighs, positioning her cock to brush at his entrance, and he _moans_ at the feeling of the slicked warmth, so _close _to pushing in, to taking him, to _having _him. He doesn't grind back, though, stays still, stays obedient, stays _good_. Jester squeezes his ass with both her hands, making him sigh, and then leans forward, biting into his back where there was _already_ a bruise, biting and _playing_ with the mark. She uses her teeth and tongue and lips, a perfect grounding sensation as she starts to push _in_, so _slowly_, mindful of every _whimper_ that leaves past his lips.

Caleb _groans_ as he feels her pushing in, pushing past his rim, his head lowered as his breathing gets even more uneven, his moans even more _choked_. Jester presses in deeper, and deeper, and _deeper_, right up until she's bottomed out, right up until her hips are flush with the curve of his ass. "Jester," he groans, sounding so thoroughly _wrecked _already. His thighs are trembling, and Jester eyes all the bruises on his back with a proud smile, kissing one of them as her fingers _dig_ into his hips. "Schatz, _please_." He's clenching around her, and she watches that dip of his spine with delight, watches how wide his thighs are parted as his ass is presented to her with pride.

_Mine_, Jester thinks eagerly, scraping her teeth against his skin. He trembles lightly as she does, sighs as he feels her breath on the bruise she leaves him, and Jester's thumbs run bracing circles, all firm and pressing his ass up against her. _He's all mine_. Her nose grazes over his delicate skin, and he shifts at the sensation, a moan pulling past his lips as it makes her cock shift inside of him. "I wanna _move_, Cayleb." She kisses the dip of his spine, her fingers even tighter as she prepares. "I wanna _fuck_ you, you know?" She lets out a breathless little laugh, imagining what someone walking into their room would see—Caleb spread out and on display on the couch, his back all littered with pretty little marks, his hair disheveled, mussed _mess_, being _fucked_ by _himself_. The thought of it makes her _harder_, and Caleb _groans _as he feels it. "What do you _say_?"

"_Green_," he moans, ass clenching on her dick. _Fuck_, the pressure really is too much, Jester has felt on the _edge _for a _while_, but she clenches her jaw and stiffens her resolve, kissing him on his shoulders, on his spine, _wherever_ she can fucking _reach_, as she draws back, cock sliding out for just a moment, before she _thrusts _back into him, rocking her hips and letting out a desperate groan. It pushes him up against the arm of the couch, makes his dick brush against the fabric, and he _moans_ at the sensation, _moans _as she pushes in, thrusting again, and then again, and then _again_. A patterned movement is slowly established as Jester _clenches_, trying to _last _through this, trying not to _come _prematurely.

See, she’s moaning _too_, gasping out compliments as she chases his tightness, chases the sensation of him, telling him he's _pretty _and _beautiful_ and _made for this, mon ange, did you know that?_ He groans through it, but doesn't grind back, his thighs fucking trembling where he lays for her and takes her compliments, takes her cock, takes everything she has to give him like the obedient good boy that he _is_. Jester slowly lets one of her hands so _tight_ on his hips loosen where it was undoubtedly leaving pretty marks with her burnt calloused fingers, and lets it _trail_, trail until it's wrapped around the base of his leaking, neglected cock. He _stiffens_ for a moment, clenching deep onto _her _cock as he feels her rough fingers trailing over his desperate dick. The sensation must be _overwhelming_, but when she bites into his back, he loosens for her, allowing more easily for her dragging thrusts as she whispers compliments. "So fucking _good_," she sighs, her red hair a mess around her pale face. Her thumb teasingly brushes over the head of his cock, making him _keen_, making his moan _choke_ in his throat. "Come a _second _time, Cayleb. Be a _good boy_, and come a _second_ time."

Caleb _groans_, and Jester grins, loving how her thrusts push him up against the arm of the couch, loves how _ruined_ his back, his real back, not his Caleb-as-Jester back, looks under her ministrations. She _squeezes_ his cock, making his sigh startle into a _moan_, and strokes him in earnest, her grip _tight_ as she touches him up his length. Her thumb trails along the underside of his dick. Jester can _tell _he's close, he's fucking _leaking _wetness against her oil-slicked fingers, and she leans up, her lips against his ear. She runs her tongue along the shell of it, and he _sighs_, angling his head to offer her easier access, moaning at the heat of her mouth. Jester _bites_, her fingers on the jut of his hips so _fucking _tight, she can't _wait _to kiss his bruises later. He's _moaning_, and so _wanting_—

"Come, _babe_," she sighs, grinning and nipping at his ear. She'll think more about it later that this is what it takes, her thrusts more and more uneven and his moans more and more _choked_ finally hitting a brink as he feels her smile against his skin, as her teeth graze his ear. His spine tenses up, and he _clenches _down, his groan so fucking _desperate _as she feels him spill onto her, onto her _hand_, the tension in his shoulders tightening for a moment before she feels those shoulder blades relax, feel him in earnest begin to slump against the couch. Jester thrusts into him once more, and he tightens with her drags, obedient and perfect until the end, tightening right up until she pulls out, her own thighs trembling as she _comes _on the back of his thighs, the wave of pleasure rolling over her so fucking much that she nearly _stumbles_, stumbles into _him_. Thankfully she manages to direct herself, bracing on the cushions of the couch, and Caleb slumps back beside her, no longer _perched_, no longer _presented_. She offers him a little smile as she feels her cock soften, all flushed and leaking and _far _too sensitive right now, and he grins back at her, touching the pillow he came against and casting _Prestidigitation _to clean it. 

"You," he mumbles, the _warmth _in his expression making Jester squirm with happiness as she leans up to press a lazy kiss to the corner of his mouth, a hand on his knee to brace herself, "are _incredible_, Lavorre." He looks _so _fucked out that it's actually quite incredible, and from how he looks at her with that _fondness _in his eyes, she knows she lost concentration, knows it even if she couldn't feel the chill of her skin against his heat. Caleb looks at himself with _derision_, and in very specific contexts with _arousal_, like he wants to fuck himself or _be _fucked, but never with _fondness_. He's _beaming_ right now, beaming in that quiet way of his, and she kisses him again, arms twinning around his neck in equal movements. She wonders if he can taste himself on her, tries to taste herself on _him_, and his half-smile _widens_ as he runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix some of the disheveled mess. "You're… you're so good for me," he whispers, sounding a little stricken, sounding a little in awe.

Jester is _entirely_ so glad he said _so good_, not _too good_, and knows from how her tail flicks and wiggles behind her that he can _entirely_ tell. She sits on his lap, knees spread over it like it's her throne, and tilts her head at him, grinning as he moves her hair out of her face so gingerly. "You're so good for me _tooooo_," she sings, giving him an impish smile. His eyes search hers, and though she sees doubt flitting through there, he also doesn't… reject her, talk over her, pretend like what she thinks doesn't have value, have _merit_. It's one of the things she loves the most about him, that he doesn't fucking baby her, that he takes her _seriously_, that when she asked if she could top he didn't _laugh _or _ignore_ her, just asked some very frank and very important and very serious questions. He's always serious when it counts, and he's a _funnier _fucker than anyone realizes, except for Nott and maybe Beau. She isn't full of _shit_, she really does think Caleb makes her better, and Caleb's smart enough to tell when she's telling the truth. 

Maybe one day he'll believe it. Maybe one day he won't find his attractiveness one of the most endearing things about himself, maybe one day he'll see that everything _else_ is just as radiant. Maybe. She thinks that might be a _really _cool day.

She's lost in her head for a moment, and doesn't see him raise his arm—but he _does _raise his arm, raises it in front of her, and Jester cocks an eyebrow as his eyes flit to her. His gaze is… nervous, but also _anticipating_, and he looks to his pale skin, looks to the scars riddled on it so _surgically_, so _precisely_, so _neatly_. He gives her a small but _determined _smile, and Jester's heart seizes at his next words, at the careful smile on his face as he watches her reaction. "Remember when you _kissed _them?"

Jester _stills_, eyes _wide_. "Ja," she mumbles, embarrassed but still meeting his eyes. _Gods_, she _remembers_ the fear she felt at the blankness in his gaze, the insincerity of his smile—things were so _new _and _exciting _then, she was so scared to ask what it all _meant, _ask for what _she _needed, demand that he ask for what _he _needed. Things got… _so _much better _so _much more quickly when she realized, and he realized, and they _talked_, and used _words_, and sometimes those words were _green _and _yellow_ and _red_, and sometimes they were other words, words like _comfortable _and _please _and _choice_. She would… _never _trade things for how they were before, and if that means having to talk about _this_, painful and awkward and embarrassing as it is, she fucking _will_. "I remember, Cayleb." How could she ever _forget_?

Caleb sighs, looking at the scars. His face _twists_, and he flits his eyes back to her, giving her a genuine little smile. She knows it's real because of how _small_, how _subtle_, it is. Just a little quirk to his lips, and it makes the tense squirming in her gut quiet down a little, to know he's _here_ and _present _and _with her_. "I… could you kiss them, please?" He sounds embarrassed, and at the way her eyes widen and her eyebrows raise, he raises other hand defensively. "I'm not trying to… _trigger_ myself"—another new word, when they visited Marion and she recommended a _sex _counselor to them for a couple sessions when they were in Nicodranas—"but I'd just… like to see,= if it hurts. I'll use my words, and only if you're… if you're comfortable." He's _flushing_, but he's _watching_ her, not looking away.

Jester _blinks_ at him, tilting her head and reaching gently to intertwine her freckled blue fingers in his burnt ones as she considers. Her jaw _shifts_, because if Caleb wants to push his own boundaries with her help, she doesn't think there's anything _wrong_ with that, anything _wrong _with seeing if what used to hurt before still hurts _now_. The atmosphere is light, and his tone is genuine, open, and she feels his breath hitch a little as she _slowly _pulls his arm close, watching him so, _so _gently. "Tell me if you want me to _stop_," she murmurs, and he _nods_, mumbling out a light, _Ja_, eyes careful. She leans _close_, close to _him_, her breath light on the scarred flesh, her hair curtaining as she comes down, down, _down_—

A pause, breathless in the silence, and _then_—

"... _Red_," he nearly _hisses_, just as her lips nearly touch his skin. She _immediately_ pulls back, letting go of his hand, and he pulls his arm close, rubbing it and blinking. She hears him mouthing things to himself quickly, and recognizes the strange out-of-order numbers the counsellor suggested, something to distract a panicking mind from losing itself in the moment. He, after a good moment where she waits for him, looks up and gives her a weak smile. His gaze is _still_ here, _still _bright, _still _present, and she's so _relieved_, relieved when he opens his arms and pulls her back into his lap. "No," he murmurs. "I thought maybe it was… but it wasn't okay."

"Don't be _disappointed_," she says, arms raising to curl around him. She looks up through her eyelashes, giving him a small little smile. "You have _nothing _to be ashamed of, you know?"

"... I'm not disappointed," he says honestly, kissing her forehead. Jester smiles at that, deciding not to _push_ at how he's ignoring her second statement. It isn't _fair_, to focus on where he regresses, Caleb always gives _her _so much credit. "I'm… mostly glad there's some resolution." His pale blue eyes look so _warm _in this light, but it doesn't look purely reflected either—Jester _swears _some of that is just Caleb, just his own radiance peaking through. "Thank you for that, Jester, I appreciate it." She's pressed in so _close_. "_Everything_, I appreciate _everything_ you've done for me." He closes his eyes for a moment, and then opens them, and his eyes are fucking _fiery_. "I'm _so _glad that you see good in me." Those _words_ from a lifetime ago, in Felderwin, when everything seemed broken and brittle and bleeding.

"Me too," she whispers, and she kisses his cheek. It's chaste, the most chaste fucking thing they've done today, and it's what catches her, what makes her face twist with so much _fucking _happiness.

The curtains rustle with the wind.


End file.
